Once Upon Another Time
by hecatesearring
Summary: Solomon said that there is a time and place for all things. What if Mohinder met Sylar at a better time and place? Slash Mohinder/Gabriel
1. Chapter 1

Hello! I'm Hecate's Earring. I have nothing to do with NBC's Heroes. This is fan fiction.

Thanks to all who have read and reviewed The Constance of Midnight. That story is not abandoned. I write the same way I think, sporadically and at the pace of very cold molasses.

_Death stands there in the background, but don't be afraid. Hold the watch down with one hand, take the stem in two fingers, and rotate it smoothly_- **Julio Cortazar from the poem, Instructions on How to Wind a Watch**

Once Upon Another Time

Chapter One

Strangely enough, in all his years of opening and closing his father's shop, of greeting customers, examining, cleaning, adjusting and rebuilding their fine timepieces, no one, not one person, had ever asked him that simple yet thoroughly relevant question until now. While all those other customers hovered in Gabriel's excellent memory as oppressive as a thick smog that refused to dissipate, this man was the sunrise that could make even smog seem beautiful.

The moment the man had stepped into the shop that day on a Friday, in summer, during late afternoon, Gabriel sensed him- felt his presence deep in his bones. His ears started ringing. His vision blurred and then tunnelled until the man was all he could seem to see, not that Gabriel wanted to look elsewhere. It wasn't just the inescapable fact that Gabriel found the man to be incredibly handsome and far more attractive than any of the women he ever met or had even ever seen. No, in retrospect, the man's looks were not the main source of his considerable appeal.

True, he posessed the sort of grace of movement one generally observed only on runways or windowsills frequented by certain sleek, well-bred housecats. He also seemed to glow deeply both with outer well-being and inner serenity, such as one commonly observed nowhere in New York nor anywhere on the planet, so far as Gabriel knew. The real source of the spell the man cast on Gabriel, was Gabriel's unshakable certainty of the man's importance to Gabriel's own life. That idea both thrilled and frightened him. Try as he might to define his reaction to this man, at once so alien yet somehow strangely right, Gabriel's mind didn't possess the proper vocabulary. He simply lacked the rules by which to dissect this experience. Just trying was like grabbing hold of something as intangible as time itself. To add to the utter strangeness of the visit, this man had forgotten to bring his watch with him but had decided to stay anyway.

"I'm sorry. It's probably a stupid question," the man offered in those golden cultured tones that spoke to Gabriel of old wealth, exotic climes, a proper English education, and something more earthy and sensual that Gabriel felt himself unprepared to hear. He caught himself continuing to stare at the man for an uncomfortably long interval. Unfortunately he couldn't seem to do much about it. Finally he closed his mouth and swallowed down that flock of butterflies in danger of escaping from his chest.

"No, it's not a stupid question. It just strikes me as odd that no one has ever asked me how to wind a watch before now." His words were delivered too softly though somehow the man had heard or knew how to lip read. All the while, he couldn't tear his gaze away from the man's eyes, so dark and bottomless, yet warm with knowledge, understanding, and something else every bit as appealing that gave Gabriel the confidence to continue speaking. "To try to answer your question, it really depends on the individual timepiece. I know that's not what you wanted to hear; but it's true. Like this one, for example-" Gabriel said, pointing to a watch in a tall upright case that he hadn't kept locked during store hours since his father passed. "It's a vintage Jaeger LeCoultre, high grade Swiss made, and seventeen jewel. The face is 18 karat rose gold."

"It's absolutely beautiful."

Without thinking twice about it, Gabriel opened the case and passed it to the man being very careful not to touch him in the process. The man smiled slightly and held the watch against his slender wrist. The deep rose gold of the face surrounding the black dial looked perfectly at home next to the man's smooth bronze skin.

"One of my favorites, it's been here a long time. I'd almost hate to sell it because I think I'd miss it. It needs to be wound between 20 and 22 times after the mainspring has run out completely."

The man handed the watch back carefully, his long fingers brushing against Gabriel's hands on purpose. Gabriel was certain of it. His skin tingled under that touch. That alone would have been enough to thoroughly distract Gabriel, but then the man smiled at him, connecting with his gaze and peering with gentle amusement into his very being. "Between 20 and 22 times? Do you mean twenty one times, perhaps?"

Somehow he pulled his mind back from those dark eyes, the open expression, the whitest most perfectly straight smile Gabriel had ever seen. This man should do toothpaste billboards.

When he couldn't avoid it any longer, Gabriel placed the watch back into the case, disappointed that he had to glance away for a moment to do so then turned back to the man and said, "Not necessarily, sometimes twenty one, sometimes twenty or twenty two. Another of this same make and model would be completely different in its required rotations- or if it wasn't I'd be surprised. Anyway, most people believe that the difference is due to conditions like temperature and humidity. While those conditions do have an effect, it's far more complicated than that. Those factors can remain constant, like they do in here, but still watches will vary from one winding to the next."

"And why is that, do you think?"

"I do have my theories," Gabriel couldn't hold back the small smile that was returned immediately. "You probably aren't that interested though," he said despite the man's proximity, his obvious interest, and not just in watches.

What was happening? Was he flirting with this man? Was the man flirting with him? It was all he could do to keep his body under control, to keep his hands from trembling, to keep his voice steady, to stop himself from simply staring.

He wanted to touch him again, too. That realization was nearly overwhelming to him. He never sought to touch anyone- certainly not a customer, not anyone he had just met who he knew nothing at all about, not any of the people he knew fairly well either, for that matter. He didn't mind hugging his mother from time to time, but that was an obligation. Now Gabriel intensely desired to touch this man again, to feel the material of his sleeve under his fingertips and the warmth of the skin underneath. It could be just a quick casual touch, nothing more than that of course. Gabriel decided the idea was entirely insane especially considering the fact that Gabriel didn't think he could bear touching this man again without jumping halfway out of his own skin.

"Should a watch be wound only forward?"

"Another good question. No, you can't harm any watch with back-winding. It's actually good for some mechanisms to put a back-wind into each cycle. It serves to take stress off. The extra motion of the winding stem can help to distribute the oil inside more evenly too. Most importantly backwinding between each wind forward can steady the hand since you don't have to remove your fingers from the stem that way. A back and forth motion can make the person winding the watch more careful and aware of what they are doing. People tend to wind watches when they are tired or otherwise distracted. The less conscious of what you are doing, the more likely you are to cause harm."

For some reason, that last statement seemed to make the man more somber somehow. "So," He said slowly, "winding a watch should be like a conscious meditation?"

"That would be a very good way to think about it, yes. It helps if you wind on the same days of the week and at same time of the day, too. For some reason a regular winding schedule improves the watch's accuracy. I wind that watch on every Tuesday and Saturday. It's always the first one I wind when I come in those mornings."

"The watch cares when you wind it?"

Gabriel could't help breaking into a slow lazy smile. "I know how crazy it must sound, but delicate devices have a kind of memory for their history. Ask any serious violinist about the temperamental nature of instruments. Any deviation from proper routine can change the way a device functions. Timepieces mark time. That's what they do. It's their sole purpose for existing, really. So yes, time matters to timepieces, whether they happen to be ticking and especially if they're not."

"I suppose it makes some sort of sense. Time effects all things. You said that you let this watch wind down before rewinding it. Wouldn't that be inconvenient to someone interested in wearing it every day?"

"Sure. I'm just telling you what's ideal for this particular watch. Lots of people stick old watches in bank vaults or drawers and leave them there for years. That's pretty convenient too or people wouldn't do that so often. Of course they probably consider that caretaking when really it's neglect. Eventually they come to see me wondering why those watches aren't performing for them as they should. To stay in prime condition, any watch, well any winding movement watch, or clock for that matter, needs to be wound at least once a week. For some timepieces, it's ideal to let them run down completely before getting wound again. That doesn't mean that you can't wind them every day without causing harm. Some of these watches that have a recent history of being worn seem to function better getting wound every day. So, I do that for them. Like I say, it just depends on the individual watch. If someone ever does buy this watch, and wears it, and winds it every day, the watch will adapt to that new routine after a time."

"Are there any standard rules that apply to all watches?"

"Well, I wouldn't recommend wearing one in the shower-"

The man chuckled at this. His laughter like his voice had a deeply musical quality. "Even I am not that absent-minded."

"When it does get wet, have it cleaned immediately, even if it is a water resistant model. Past the original warranty water-resistance means nothing. Never wear a watch while you are trying to wind it, either. The angle puts far too much strain on the watch stem. Most cases of bent winding stems and snapped off crowns happen that way."

"Can a watch be over-wound?"

"Most people who service watches will tell you no, that you can't overwind any watch. I'm not saying all of them are lying and just trying to drum up extra business. I'm sure some don't know any better. The truth is that any rough or improper winding can damage a watch, most commonly the stem, mainspring, and the components in the escapement. It's not impossible to cause damage while winding to any watch, but one should be especially careful when dealing with early and antique watches and special models. Watches already in need of minor adjustments or repair might be further damaged from winding too."

"You make watchmaking sound like a dishonest profession."

"It's best to be careful with whom you deal is all. Even an honest watchmaker lacking experience, study, skill, or attention to detail, can cause or overlook problems that will become costly for the customer down the line. Just like in every other profession, there are the good and the bad, with the vast majority in between."

Gabriel noticed the man had shifted closer to him. Now there was far too little space between them for business or even casual conversation. The man smelled like fresh laundry and spices he could not name. He never remembered taking notice of someone's scent, except for the occasional person he passed on the street who was too long unwashed or too heavily perfumed. This was far too intimate, too unsettling, yet inexplicably familiar somehow though nothing like this had ever happened to Gabriel before. This man was a bad a case of deja veux. Perhaps he reminded Gabriel of some half-remembered dream?

"The watch in question, it only recently passed into my possession. How should I go about winding it for the first time?"

"Providing that it has been recently worn, well-maintained and cleaned within at least the past year, put it up to your ear. Wind slowly and count the revolutions. Counting the first time will give you a good idea of when you should get ready to stop winding the watch the next time. Though like I say, the number of rotations will vary slightly every time, no matter how perfectly consistant your revolutions. With your ear to it, you'll be able to hear the winding and hear when the mechanism clicks forward. That's when you stop. Now, with certain models you'll hear that click before you feel any resistance at all. If that's the case with your watch I'd suggest holding it to your ear every time. That's it. When it clicks, the watch is wound as far as it needs to go."

"I'm afraid I have no idea when it was last serviced, or if it ever has been for that matter."

"I think you should bring it by. I'll be glad to take a look for you. If it is in good condition or just needs cleaning, I'll do that and the first winding at no charge. If it needs repairs, I can itemize and explain them to you, and give you a free estimate."

"Most generous. It is very kind of you to make such an offer."

"No. It's no trouble."

"I could bring it by on Monday, providing that I can buy you dinner this evening? You are closing soon, aren't you? My name is Mohinder, by the way. Mohinder Suresh." The man held out his hand.

It wasn't like Gabriel didn't know that this happened. This was something some people did. They just went out on dates to dinner with complete strangers, though one only had to read a newspaper to know why such a date was a bad idea.

While his instincts told him that this man wasn't dangerous, he had no way to be certain. Even if he could trust Mohinder, Gabriel felt that things would end badly anyway. He would ruin this somehow- by not saying the right things or saying all the wrong things, or by spilling something on himself or all over Mohinder, or by doing something else too embarrassing to contemplate. Somehow he would make a fool out of himself no matter how hard he would try to do otherwise. He also felt- so unprepared. If he'd had a week to ready himself, to shower right beforehand, to carry a toothbrush and floss to the restaurant with him, to make sure his hair was neatly combed and lying perfectly flat, to pick out what to wear, to think of polite things to do and proper topics of conversation, to read a book on dating other men- no, it all would serve to make him more nervous. Gabriel didn't think he could become any more nervous without becoming physically ill. Public vomiting was the last thing he wanted to do in front of Mohinder during his first dinner date ever.

Maybe this wasn't even a date- just- something else. He wouldn't spoil everything by just assuming this was a date. People had business dinners and casual dinners and even formal dinners that weren't anywhere even close to being dates. Maybe Mohinder was new to the city or a tourist or here on business of some sort and just wanted someone to talk with while he ate. Why him though? In a city full of all imaginable types of people, why would this man choose his company? That thought alone made him somewhat suspicious of Mohinder's motives. His mother and father hadn't agreed on very much. They had agreed on one thing: strangers were never, ever to be trusted.

However, Gabriel didn't like distrusting people, not without a really good cause. Doing so made him feel like a small person. Maybe that was why he never locked the cases during business hours. Besides, it wasn't as though someone couldn't just smash a case anyway, then grab up some watches, and flee out the door. He was hardly the type to chase them down. If someone were to come armed to rob Gray and Son, he was probably slightly safer not having to rummage at gunpoint to find keys or open a safe. Gabriel liked to think his trust was rewarded. A watch had never gone unaccounted for during business hours, nor had the shop ever been burgled at night. Perhaps it was just because Gray and Son was such a cold, sober, no-nonsense presence in the neighborhood, still exactly reflecting his late father's personality.

Gabriel reached out toward Mohinder's open hand. As before, the connection made when their hands met was purely electric. Mohinder didn't shake and release as Gabriel was expecting. In fact he didn't seem in any hurry to give back Gabriel's hand, nor did Gabriel feel the need to reclaim it.

"Oh," Gabriel said finally, then after a few more seconds, "Oh! I'm Gabriel Gray. It's very nice to meet you, Mohinder."

"The pleasure is mine, Gabriel."

Gabriel swallowed reflexively, which was odd since his mouth had seemed overly dry for quite a while now. Even though he still feared that he might be making a huge mistake by not finding some polite excuse to decline Mohinder's invitation, Gabriel heard himself saying, "It will take me about an hour to finish up here. Would it be all right if I were to meet you somewhere nearby after?" When the man smiled that perfectly beautiful, perfectly warm smile at him and squeezed his hand gently, Gabriel was sure that for better or worse, his whole life had changed today.

TBC

(Thank you so much for reading. I love hearing from you. Comments of any sort are always welcome.)


	2. Chapter 2

Part Two

Gabriel dealt with one last minute customer, an older woman from the neighborhood who purchased a sturdy sports chronograph as an anniversary gift for her husband who coached their granddaughter's soft ball team. She had the photos to prove it. By the time he finished with her, had completed his other necessary closing tasks, including locking the doors behind him, he had to run to the restaurant where they had agreed to meet and was still nearly five minutes late. He stopped there at the entrance for a moment to catch his breath and compose himself. He wondered if Mohinder had waited for him or more likely if Mohinder had given up on him in disgust. He wouldn't blame him if he had gone. He was sweaty now too and his hair was undoubtedly sticking up all over. Mohinder shouldn't be seen in public with someone like him. The date, no, the meeting, was already a disaster and hadn't properly started yet. There was nothing for it, except to go in and then get this whole incident behind him. Gabriel steeled himself for imminent rejection and walked through the doorway. The hostess smiled politely and asked if he had reservations and how many were in his party.

"I'm late. I was supposed to meet someone here. He may be seated, unless he already left."

"Are you Gabriel?"

Now that was the last thing Gabriel had expected. "Yes."

"He's right. You are absolutely gorgeous. Mohinder's this way."

The restaurant was dimly lit, with candles everywhere. He wondered how they qualified for fire insurance. Mohinder was seated in a secluded nook for two. Gabriel realized he hadn't picked a generic restaurant, he had chosen an overtly romantic one.

Mohinder stood and smiled when he neared the table. By candlelight, Mohinder looked particularly beautiful. The amber glow reflected softly off his bronze skin and well-defined features. It seemed to accentuate his mystery and exotically dark eyes.

"I'm so sorry I'm late."

"Are you late? I hadn't noticed. I've only just secured us a table. Have you run the whole way?"

"I'm sorry. I got detained by a last minute customer."

"So you ran? In this heat?"

"I'm extremely sorry."

"I'm extremely flattered."

Mohinder had walked behind him and was holding out his chair. Gabriel let Mohinder seat him feeling very exposed and raw, alien to the company and his surroundings. He didn't belong here. Things like this, people like Mohinder, just didn't happen in his life.

"Aren't you supposed to be upset with me?"

"Why? Because you do your very best to be punctual?" Mohinder sat across from him looking bemused. Once again Gabriel was startled by how breathtaking this man was. Mohinder was positively glowing, radiant not unlike the candles. In fact he put them to shame.

"You're a nice person, Mohinder."

"You've been dating the wrong people, perhaps?"

Dating. So Mohinder did consider this a date. Gabriel was on a date. He was on a date with Mohinder, unquestionably the most attractive person he'd ever met.

"I-" should say something witty now like my life depends on it. Or lie, since the truth is so patently pathetic. Or try to act like all this is old hat, no nothing the least bit extraordinary here. Or just keep quiet and let Mohinder do all the talking. "I've never dated before. I'm out of my element here. I've only ever eaten in restaurants a few times, mostly when I was a kid. So when I say or do something unforgivably stupid, I hope you'll correct me, so that if you ever want to do this again- well, I'll try my best to get better at this."

Mohinder reached over the table and stroked the back of his hand now clutching his glass of ice water. Impulsively, Gabriel let go of the glass and let Mohinder have his hand.

"I'm honored that you agreed to join me tonight. Thank you. But am I to gather that you have never eaten here either?"

Gabriel felt his face pull into a grin. "No, never."

"I see. And yet you recommended this very romantic establishment on what basis?"

"Well, they've been in business for a long time. I had heard the food's good and not expensive. Plus it was the closest one to the shop, just in case I needed to run the whole way."

Mohinder laughed and it was the most beautiful sound Gabriel had ever heard. "I don't care about the restaurant, Gabriel. Even if it's amazing it wouldn't come close to the pleasure of your company for me."

"I'm not- that special."

"Oh, I'm afraid I'd have to disagree with you there. May I take it that you cook?"

"Of course. I know it's just a chore to some people; but I've always enjoyed it."

"Then perhaps if I don't say or do too many unforgivably stupid things this evening, you might see fit to cook for me one day. Unfortunately I don't cook much beyond toast or the occasional hard boiled egg and the like. I am getting more proficient but only by necessity. Still, I eat out far more often than I ever have the opportunity to indulge in a real home-cooked meal."

"I can't imagine you ever doing anything the least bit stupid."

"Ah good, then I'm bound to surprise my date this evening. What a relief. I was afraid you'd be harder to impress."

Just then the waiter came to take their drink orders. Gabriel had expected for Mohinder to release his hand, despite the fact that the waiter had already noticed. Mohinder didn't nor did he tense at all while holding hands with a man in the waiter's presence. Mohinder ordered a hot tea. Gabriel stuck with the ice water.

"Won't the tea keep you awake all night?"

"That is the idea since I currently work nights."

"What do you do?"

"Don't laugh. I'm a cab driver."

"Isn't that awfully dangerous?"

"Yes of course. I drive in fear every night- and that's just because of other cab drivers."

"I'm serious, Mohinder. You could get killed. I know you're highly educated."

"I'm a geneticist."

"Wow. And you drive a cab why?"

"One could say it's yet another family tradition just like genetics." Mohinder gave Gabriel an extremely abridged version of how he had ended up in America pursuing his dead father's genetic research.

"It seems we've both stepped into our father's lives."

"Yes. I suppose we have."

"Your father died when some drunk crashed into his cab. But now- you're driving a cab?"

"And you never could have imagined me doing anything stupid. Surprise!"

The waiter returned with Mohinder's tea and took their food orders. Mohinder chose a vegetarian Thai curry which was the closest thing to Indian food on the menu. Gabriel ordered a salad with the raspberry vinagrette.

"A salad and ice water?"

"I didn't agree to join you just for free food."

"Have you ever considered the fact that I was looking forward to watching you eat, and not just three lettuce leaves?"

"No honestly, that thought hadn't entered my mind."

"What did enter your mind?"

"Well, I didn't want to cost you a lot of money."

"Fine. Our next restaurant, I pick and you pay, Mr. Successful Business Owner. Believe me, I'll have no such reservations with your finances, so long as I finally get to watch you eat real food."

"You could let me taste your curry. That's real food, right?"

"And will you allow me feed it to you?"

"What are you? Some kind of exhibitionist or voyeur or food fetishist or something?"

"Bisexual Indian New York cab driver. It's all the same thing really. So may I?"

"All right. One forkful."

"Three."

"Two, but only if I like what you ordered."

"Done."

"And may I feed you half a lettuce leaf in return?"

"Any time, but only with your fingers."

"You're serious."

"Mmm, I never said I was going to feed you two forkfuls using a fork."

"Isn't that the utensil a forkful usually implies?"

"Trust me. I'm a scientist. A forkful implies an imprecise unit of measurement, nothing more. Do you object to the idea of having my fingers in your mouth, Gabriel?"

"Not a bit."

"Do you object to the idea of having your fingers in my mouth?"

"So where is that waiter with our food?"

"I'm terribly attracted to you. As you notice, I'm also very forward. If it bothers you ignore me. It's not my wish to pressure you or make you feel uncomfortable."

"Terribly attracted?"

"And wonderfully. Intensely drawn to you, yes."

"I feel it too, from the first moment you walked into the shop. But it's more than that now."

"I'm very happy I'm not the only one."

The food arrived. Gabriel's salad was huge, with quite a bit more going for it than three leaves of lettuce. Mohinder's 'Thai curry' smelled wonderful, though it was Americanized and very mild on the spices. At least most of the ingredients in it had been fresh instead of canned or frozen.

Mohinder picked out a bit of cooked pineapple in creamy curry coconut sauce and held it out for Gabriel. Gabriel opened his mouth to accept the offering, then licked the curry sauce from Mohinder's fingers. He savored the experience slowly staring into Mohinder's eyes. Gabriel felt like he was dreaming this. He still couldn't quite believe he was here with Mohinder, never mind being erotically hand-fed by Mohinder in public.

He then surveyed his salad, chose the choicest most perfectly ripe cherry tomato, and held it out to Mohinder. Just as Mohinder's hot mouth closed around his fingers, the waiter came to check on them which did not stop Mohinder from sucking on his fingers shamelessly. It was embarrassing. It was also exhilarating and strangely liberating. Beyond all that- it felt unbelievably great.

"Oh, I think we're doing just fine here thanks," Gabriel told the waiter without ever taking his eyes off Mohinder, which quickly sent the waiter away again.

"It turns out that I'm rather enjoying that much-maligned salad of yours," said Mohinder when his mouth was empty again.

"Your turn. I'm ready for my second forkful please."

By the end of the meal, they had split the curry and the salad and had admitted they were both wrong. Clearly forkfuls imply neither utensils nor units of measurement however imprecise. Desert was a shared dish of lemon sorbet. The two spoons that came with it went untouched. No doubt they had given the wait staff something to talk about.

After Mohinder had paid, generously tipping the waiter, and they had exited the restaurant, Gabriel was feeling rather uncomfortably lost again. Mohinder seemed to like him well enough. Nothing truly disastrous had befallen them at dinner, at least as far as Gabriel could tell. Still, he didn't know what to expect next nor what Mohinder expected from him. "Um, well, thank you for dinner, Mohinder. I'm glad I came. Thank you for asking me."

His anxiety must have showed. Mohinder took Gabriel's hands again and gave them a reassuring squeeze. "I'm happy that you enjoyed this. I certainly have. Now, I wish to see you safely home. I promise I'll be a perfect gentleman and leave you at your doorstep. However, I would in no way object if you would like to honor me with a hug or perhaps even a kiss goodnight. By the way, I like to think this would be my choice of actions, even if I didn't have to work tonight, which I do. Gabriel, I do hope that this was not our first and only date."

"No. I'd like to see you again, Mohinder. Very much. I could cook for us some night when you're free? Any night's fine."

"Perhaps we should make it tomorrow then, since I have to work tomorrow night also?"

"Tomorrow works. Is seven good?"

"May I show up at six thirty and bother you in guise of helping?"

"Sure. If you want."

"I'd like that very much."

"Oh, what do you not eat?"

"Don't worry about that. When it comes to food I'm far from picky. Nor am I coming to your home strictly for the free dinner."

When they had reached Gabriel's doorstep, Gabriel hesitated. He wondered how best to proceed, if he should hug or try to kiss Mohinder, if he should say something first- and what to say? Clearly he waited too long.

"And here we are. Goodnight Gabriel. I look forward to tomorrow." Mohinder was very smooth, but there was the slightest hint of disappointment in his voice and eyes before he turned to leave.

"No, please wait." Gabriel stepped forward. When Mohinder turned back to him Gabriel wrapped an arm around Mohinder's slender waist. His other hand slid into Mohinder's curls. Mohinder felt so perfect and fit so well against him. When his mouth descended it met with pliant lips and soon an open, unresisting mouth. Later he would have no idea how long their first kiss had lasted only that it had been the single most blissful moment of his entire life to date. Under the tea, lemon sorbet, the curry and salad, Mohinder tasted like Mohinder and was thoroughly delicious. His mouth was hot and hungry. His tongue was incredibly talented, teasing Gabriel's to new heights of passion. All the while that electric connection they shared sent a hum of current coursing throughout him.

This was too good. How had he lived so long without this? How could he live without this, now that he knew what he was missing? Regardless, Gabriel was the first to pull away. That hadn't been a goodnight kiss, he realized. It was- the exact opposite of saying goodnight. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm not." Then Mohinder kissed him again. This kiss was slower, more carefully controlled, but somehow was just as heavenly. It was a kiss that ended in two smiles pressed one against the other. "Thank you," Mohinder whispered against Gabriel's mouth. When he pulled back his hands lingered on Gabriel's shoulders. "I'll see you tomorrow evening at six thirty. Oh, and here's my card, so that you can reach me. Make use of it often, as much as you'd like. I nearly always carry my cell, except when I forget, or leave it somewhere, or lose it all together."

"Mohinder, the watch, was it your father's?"

"Yes."

"Bring it tomorrow night. I'll have a look." Mohinder nodded then backed away facing Gabriel until he had to turn a corner, somehow managing to look entirely dashing and not the least bit idiotic in the process.

TBC

(Thanks for reading! Any comments or suggestions are welcome. Thank you to all who are kind enough to review.)


	3. Chapter 3

Part Three

The moment the door was closed, he slid down against it until he sat. He had done it. He had held up his end of a successful date, a date with Mohinder Suresh. He had kissed him. Mohinder had kissed him back. His lips were still tingling from the experience. Mohinder had bought him dinner. Mohinder thought he was special. Mohinder even wanted to see him again- here. Suddenly a fist of raw panic gripped Gabriel's heart hard. Mohinder would coming here for dinner tomorrow night. He had less than twenty four hours to prepare. He had to sleep, at least a little. He had to work tomorrow. That left him- no time to spare.

Gabriel stood and looked around with a critical eye. He really hadn't given his apartment this much thought since before moving into it. He had never had anyone else over. His mother was too much of a recluse to bother him at home, at least in person- thank God. That was the purpose of his cell phone. He was neat by nature. He didn't care to feel the weight of clutter around him. As a result, his rooms were kept tidy and strictly functional. The kitchen was a little less bare than the rest but no less functional. He spent more time there and in the bedroom than anywhere else. He had never enjoyed any of the television his mother watched and saw no reason to purchase one of his own. All the electronics he owned he kept at the shop. Most of his books were here though. Usually when he was not cooking, eating, reading, showering, or sleeping, he was at the shop. His apartment, though it suited him most days, was looking sparse and uninviting at best to him now. He hadn't dusted for nearly a week. Why had he never bothered to repaint the place after the previous inhabitants? He simply didn't have time to worry about that now. Gabriel had too much work to do.

After he dusted thoroughly, cleaned his windows, swept the floors and vacuumed the carpets, Gabriel checked his refrigerator, freezer, and cupboards. He made a shopping list, then started on the things he could prepare ahead of time for dinner tomorrow. It was nearly midnight before he was ready to call it a night. Gabriel curled up on his side in bed and let the events of the day unfold in his memory. Today had been without a doubt the best day of his life. He touched his lips again remembering the feel of Mohinder pressed against him. Just the memory of their kisses caused his breath to catch and his heart to hammer.

What would tomorrow bring? What if Mohinder changed his mind about him? What if he doesn't show up at all? Should he call him if that were to happen? Just to make sure that Mohinder was okay? Would that be too pathetic? What if he does show up but doesn't like dinner? What if something burns or turns out badly? What if Mohinder hates the apartment? What if the toilet backs up like it did last year? What if there's a gas leak in the building? Anything could happen! Why had he wanted to bring Mohinder here? Why not meet him in public somewhere again, somewhere where Mohinder could have fun. He could have asked to take him to a museum or a concert or a film or something. No. Mohinder had wanted to come. Mohinder wanted a home-cooked meal. He could provide that. He would make this work. It was necessary that he did.

That night Gabriel dreamt that he could do amazing things. He could bend steel in his bare hands. He could create objects out of thin air. He was dressed all in black for some reason and was standing on a rooftop overlooking Manhattan. Mohinder was there too, but was afraid of a monster that was coming to get them. He tried to tell Mohinder not to worry, that he would protect them both. Mohinder wouldn't listen. He started running away in a panic. Gabriel pursued him. Then Mohinder fell over the side of the building. Gabriel rushed to the edge and found Mohinder hanging there. Gabriel reached down to grab Mohinder's hand. When their eyes met, Mohinder let go. As he watched Mohinder fall, he finally understood why Mohinder had been terrified. The monster was him.

He awoke near dawn in a cold sweat. He stripped off his tshirt and sleeping pants, and pulled the sweat-soaked sheets from the bed too, and tossed the lot into the clothes washer in the kitchen. By the time he had showered and dressed the specifics of his dream were distant. Nothing but a vague feeling of dread remained that he attributed to worry over his second date with Mohinder. In the kitchen he transfered the clothes to the drier and put the kettle on. He rarely drank tea, but figured that today he could use the caffeine. Tea made him feel close to Mohinder too. He added tea to his shopping list figuring the ancient Lipton's teabags he kept in his freezer weren't terribly impressive. He remade his bed waiting for the kettle to boil. These were his best sheets. The thought made him blush. No way was Mohinder going to see them anyway. It wasn't like that. It was just dinner.

But he might see them some day, right? That was where all this could lead, providing tonight went well. Before meeting Mohinder he never even had considered the idea of having intimate relations with a man. Thinking about bed and Mohinder in the same sentences made him realize why sex beyond masturbation had been of so little interest to him before now. Before now, his ideas about intimacy had always involved a woman. Women were so alien, so complicated, so intimidating. Some women were like his mother. The idea of being intimate with any woman was something he didn't even like to think about. According to his mother it was his mission in life- to find a nice girl (like her) and settle down. That would have been settling for less, he now realized. Less, and far too little given the possible alternative. Mohinder added a whole new dimension to the idea of settling down. So, that meant that he was gay, right?

"I'm gay." Hearing it out loud sounded right to him. So he was gay. He knew nothing whatsoever about being gay. He needed to read some books and soon. He needed to make a to do list and write that at the very top. He needed tonight to go smoothly. He needed Mohinder Suresh. More than he needed to keep breathing, he needed Mohinder. The kettle whistled. He'd have his tea then clean his bathroom whether it needed it or not.

Though he got more than the average Saturday's worth of customers, his hours at the shop dragged. His every thought not referencing Mohinder directly, involved preparations for a quick close and doing what needed to be done before Mohinder arrived at his door at six thirty. At three-thirty two, he'd had all that he could stand of Gray and Son. He lit the closed sign, locked the door, and counted down the drawer. It was sixteen past four by the time he locked the doors behind him. The shops were packed. At each he grabbed what he needed and tried to pick the quickest line. It was five to five by the time he returned bags in hand to his building. Almost an hour and a half gave him just enough time.

At six thirteen, Gabriel tossed his apron and clothes into the washer and took a very quick shower. He brushed and flossed his teeth, gargled, dressed, and was just about to comb his hair flat when the knock sounded. Why was his hair a complete mess everytime he saw Mohinder? He opened the door. There stood Mohinder and his perfect smile.

"I hope I'm not too early? I didn't want to be late."

"You're perfect. Come in."

"Hello."

"Hello Mohinder." Gabriel leaned down slightly. Mohinder went up on his toes. Their lips met in the middle.

"I missed you."

"I've been thinking about you all day. I'm so glad you're here now."

"Something smells wonderful. You're not cooking Indian food?"

"Well I hope that's what it is. Come take a look."

"Your apartment- it's so clean!"

"I dusted."

"Dusted? We could eat off the floor in here!"

"That's not another one of your kinks, is it?"

"It just might become one. What have you made? Are those idlis?"

"I know it's considered mainly a breakfast food. The shapes are a little off too. I had to use a glass devilled egg dish since I didn't know where I could get my hands on an idli pan."

"You made idlis! I can't believe it! Do you know that I dream about eating idlis?"

"There's a sambar and a mint chutney to go with them."

"Gabriel, I don't know what to say. I would never have expected anything like this. I'd have been perfectly happy with a cheese sandwich."

"Now you tell me."

"I'm very happy I never mentioned it."

"There are also mango lassis and chai, a salad too, and apple pie for dessert. I thought about trying for an Indian dessert, but I make pretty good pies."

"I love apple pie."

"Good, because I made three. You can take one home with you."

"Three?"

"Little ones. I used 5 inch pans. The other one's for my mother."

"Your mother lives here in the city?"

"Three blocks that way."

"I'd love to meet her some time?"

"Maybe you think that now. My mother- she's difficult."

Just then the phone rang.

"And her timing is impeccable. This might take a while. Feel free to start."

"It's fine. I'd much rather wait and eat with you."

"Hello? Now? No. No. Please listen. Please listen? No. No. Can I- no. Can I do that later tonight? Because I have a date. Right now. Yes, we are about to eat. Not exactly. Look, can I come over later? No. No. Yes, all right. Yes, I know. I do. Yes, I do. No. No. I'll come as soon as I can. No. No, it won't. It won't. It won't. I wouldn't do that. Listen. Listen for a minute. Please just listen? No. No. No, of course not. You know better than that. You know that I do. I can't. I can't. Not right now, I can't. Please listen, I can't. I'll come over right after we eat. No. No, right after. No. No. After. No. No! Fine. I'll be right there. Yes. No, I'm coming over there now. Right now. I just said that I'd come right over. No, I'll leave now. Now. As soon as you say goodbye and hang up your phone. Bye. Hang up. Hang up your phone. Goodbye. It's okay, just hang up your phone. Just hang up the phone now. If you won't I will. Fine. Bye."

"I couldn't help overhearing. Is everything all right?"

"I'm so sorry, Mohinder."

"What is it? Was that your mother?"

"Yeah, she's having a bad day."

"Is she all right?"

"Not really, no. I didn't mean that she's hurt or anything. She wants me to go over and move some furniture for her. Stay. I hope you enjoy dinner. I'll be back just as soon as I can- but if you're not here when I-"

"Let me come. I can help you move your mother's furniture. Besides, idlis are even better cold."

"I appreciate that you would offer. It might be better though if you were to meet my mother-" at her funeral maybe? "when she's more calm."

Mohinder's disappointment was subtle and tinged with- what? Hurt? Could he possibly think that Gabriel was ashamed of him?

"You know what? She's equally difficult in any mood. As long as you're sure you want to accompany me, I'd like it very much if you do. But just so you know- her furniture weighs a ton."

"I've had plenty of practice with my own difficult parents. I'll be most happy to assist," Mohinder gave Gabriel a rather significant and understanding look, "in any way I can."

"I just- look Mohinder, I apologize in advance if this turns out to be a really unpleasant experience for you. She's-"

"Difficult, yes, I understand."

"I know that moving my mother's apartment to the left was probably the last thing you had in mind for tonight. It's perfectly okay if you want to reconsider your offer. You can stay and eat in peace, or if you'd rather, I'll wrap up the food to take with you, or-"

Mohinder's lips pressed against his, took away the rest of that thought. Then Mohinder pulled him into the perfect hug and whispered against his shoulder, "Gabriel, I came here tonight with no expectations except to eat, possibly just a cheese sandwich, and to spend time with you so we may get to know one another. I'd be honored to meet your mother tonight."

"Just remember that I did try to warn you."

"Gabriel you worry too much. How horribly wrong could our visit go? We are bringing her apple pie after all."

(TBC- Thanks for reading. All comment is welcome. Reviewers are my favorite people in the world.)


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